


I need help wrapping this.

by hobbeshalftail3469



Series: Christmas Fic prompts [4]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Cormoran really can't wrap presents, F/M, Robin is excellent at instructing, Sellotape is a pain!, Strike finally gets to tangle his hands in that amber hair, a few drinks makes them both loosen up, but even she needs some hands on direction!, comfortable companionship, kiss, kissy time, literally!!, sweep me off my feet loveliness for Christmas!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: This is the final part of my 4 part mini story based on 4 of the ficlet prompts.Robin and Strike have been trimming the office tree and have gone to the Tottenham.Having decided on a take away meal, Strike asks Robin for help...and she finally makes his iron resolve crumble.**the Robin squirming under Strike's arms resting on the table is loosely based on the scene in The Vicar of Dibley with Harry (had to get an Armitage link in for you RobinleStrange!!)*Editing them all now to get them in more appropriate place on Strike fandom as I wrote them a while back and they don't show at the recent updates *
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Christmas Fic prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534328
Comments: 21
Kudos: 42
Collections: Cormoran Strike Boxing Day Ficlet Fest





	I need help wrapping this.

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [StrikeBoxingDayFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/StrikeBoxingDayFest) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> “I need help wrapping this.”

The atmosphere in the Tottenham was a mixture of warmth and whimsey; the Pogues’ Fairytale of New York played in the background on what felt like repeat and groups appeared throughout the evening sporting various festive headgear choices and there was a rumbling and comforting crackle from the roaring logs that were added to the fire, on one occasion by Cormoran himself, which had made Robin develop an almost instant, dreamy image of him as a hunter-gatherer, alpha male, chopping logs and bringing ‘fire’.  
“You alright, Ellacott?” he asked when he sat back down on the small stool across from her at their familiar table containing Robin's large glass of white wine and the remains of his second pint of Doom Bar.  
She shook herself back to the present and to the fact that it was just regular, slightly battered but cutely boyish looking Cormoran sat opposite her in his red half-zip sweater.  
“Fine, just….you know couple of drinks and a fire…..I’m sure I’ve got rosy cheeks!” she puffed them out a little and gulped down a large mouthful of her wine, feeling like it was lasting rather a long time compared to what a small glass usually did!

Strike was feeling the effects of the warmth too, although it was focussing itself rather more on his groin than other parts of his body.  
Robin’s slender but curvaceous body had felt so right earlier as he’d lifted her to reach the top of the tree in the office. And the sight of her across the table from him, waiting for him when he came back from the loo made his stomach lurch and his cock twitch in the most deliciously uncontrolled way.

The past barriers to any form of relationship developing between them had mainly gone; Robin had been divorced for over 6 months, and Strike hadn’t been seeing anyone for slightly longer. However, the possibility of balls-ing up the best relationship he had ever had with a woman was still upper most in his mind when he considered the inviting temptation of her lips……as was the case now as they pouted back at him across the table.

“Have you got anything planned to eat?” he asked as he distracted himself from his highly unprofessional thoughts by considering his stomach.  
Robin raised her eyebrows, thinking about the contents of her fridge without much enthusiasm.  
“Not really….might cobble together a stir-fry. Why?” she asked.  
“Just thought we could get some take out, I’ve got a code for 20% off on that app but there’s a minimum order of £25….and even I’m not that much of a greedy bastard!” he explained.

Robin grinned, the thought of mushroom soup, prawn crackers and copious amounts of egg fried rice was highly appealing to her slightly fuzzy headed state.  
“Can we get Chinese?” she asked, curling her lips sexily as he nodded and made a throaty grumble of delight.  
“Definitely! And I’m having duck pancakes……and prawn toasts……..and spring rolls….and I am assuming you want a bucket of fried rice, madam?” he stated as he drained his pint and stood up, dragging his huge overcoat off the stool and pulling it on as Robin bundled herself into her coat and scarf.

“You assume correctly, Sir….and I might have to have one of those chocolate things off the tree for dessert!” she added.  
“No!!!, You’ll spoil the design!” he slurred and tripped slightly on an uneven paving stone.  
Robin clutched onto him instinctively and he allowed his arm to remain draped across her shoulders in a friendly manner as they walked along the still busy pavements. Strike’s somewhat threatening size and expression ensured that the crowds seemed to part around them.

Robin steered them towards a small Tesco Express where they parted; her to purchase chocolate more substantial than a tree decoration and him to place their order for the take away.  
Strike eyed the bag Robin was clutching suspiciously, “That’s a fucking big bag for just chocolate….and since when does chocolate clink?” he asked as she handed the cloth tote across to him. He grasped it by bundling up the long handles and fell back into step alongside her as they neared Denmark Street.

“We drank most of your beer earlier,” she explained, “And a bottle of white wine may well have leapt in there too!”  
More booze on top of what they’d already consumed probably wasn’t a brilliant idea, but the Chinese food would absorb some of it he told himself as Robin fished in her bag for her keys.  
“You take these up, I’ll go grab the food and have a quick fag,” he suggested handing over the keys to his flat and exchanging them for hers to the outside door, their fingers tangling slightly.

He took a steadying breath after she’d gone inside as he lit up a cigarette, drawing his nicotine fix deeply into his lungs and exhaling smoke in a swirling fog through his mouth and nostrils as he made his way down to the bottom of the road and round the corner to the Chinese take away they favoured.  
He considered the events of the day….actually the events of the previous couple of years since Robin had literally turned around his life.

OK, he was still living in a tiny attic flat above his office….but he no longer worried about red, final demands on his bills; he had actually managed to give Robin a pay rise and he was feeling more positive about the future than he had done in years.  
But as he lit a second cigarette from the stub of his first his thoughts went back to their afternoon decorating the Christmas tree which had drifted almost seamlessly into the evening of good company, easy conversation and drinks at the Tottenham….which had now lead into a take away meal…..in his flat……and Robin had bought more alcohol……and her lips always got gloriously shiny when she ate fried rice…..  
He twisted and flexed his neck in an attempt to clear his thoughts and tossed away his cigarette stub before entering the small take away shop front.

The owner recognised him and shouted through to the kitchens as he bundled several boxes and containers into a couple of bags and passed them across to Strike’s outstretched hand.  
Pleasantries exchanged he walked back to the flat, wondering what Robin would be doing as she waited.

As she waited, Robin had located plates and glasses from the neatly stacked cabinet in Strike’s kitchenette and grabbed forks and spoons from the cutlery drawer.  
Strike’s flat had limited space, and limited lighting options.  
He favoured lamps, which had always seemed odd to Robin, given his precarious movement, especially once his prosthetic was removed, she’d always considered that full lighting would be preferable for him! Still, she went with what was available and flicked on the small lamp next to the armchair and the other, taller one nearer the door. Between the pair of them the flat was cast in a warm glow.

She kicked off her boots and hung her coat on the hooks near the door and smiled at the complete lack of anything which signified the festive season.  
On a whim she trotted quickly down to the office and grabbed one of the pieces of tinsel from the Christmas tree.  
Taking it up to the flat she wrapped it around one of the empty beer bottles and placed it centrally on the tiny table.

She then flicked on the TV and located one of the 24 hour Christmas music channels, making sure it was low enough to be just background, and tucked her legs underneath herself as she settled onto the comfy armchair, reaching to flick through the previous day’s Metro, noticing that Cormoran had completed the crossword and also started a list of words from the anagram. She noticed a couple he’d missed and added them in her loopy handwriting beneath his scrawl before hearing his uneven gait on the stairs.

“Comfy?” he asked, smirking at the sight of her looking perfect curled up in his chair.

“Yes, but starving!” she snapped back, leaping up and relieving him of the bags while he took off his coat, nipped to pee and washed his hands.  
When he returned she had unpacked most of the food and was hunting for a corkscrew for her wine.  
“I’ll get that,” he offered while she sat down and began to spoon soup into her mouth, sighing as the hot liquid tricked into her stomach and warmed her………….although the sight of Cormoran twisting the cork efficiently out of a bottle of wine was somehow warming other parts of her too!

He poured her a glass of wine, took a beer for himself and they ate in continued companionable good humour.  
Robin ate enough to satisfy her hunger, and to soak up some of the wine she’d consumed.  
Strike ate enough to satisfy his AND Robin’s hunger….but felt highly restrained at the fact that he left most of the onion in the sweet and sour veg!

Robin was reluctant to leave.  
She was comfortable, warm and enjoying their mixture of light hearted chat and work based discussions.  
After a brief pause in conversation Strike flicked his tongue across his teeth and inhaled deeply.

“Can I ask you for a favour?” he asked, stretching out his long legs beside the table.  
“Course you can,” Robin replied, “Only I am NOT doing that early surveillance on False Nails for you!”  
He chuckled, “I’ve already told Barclay he’s doing it! Can you clear the table off?” and he hauled himself up and went through the short distance to his bedroom.

Robin started to transfer empty boxes to one of the bags for rubbish.  
He returned to the room carrying a paper carrier bag emblazoned with the Hamleys logo and a second bag with what looked like wrapping paper inside.

“Shall I get rid of this?” Robin asked, indicating the tinsel bottle in her hand.  
Strike looked momentarily affronted, “NO! I like it…it’s festive…and smells like beer! Bung it over there,” he gestured towards the small side table where Robin had placed the newspaper.

“I need help wrapping this,” Strike lifted a remote controlled tank from the bag. It was attached to a sort of backing piece of cardboard, but the actual rest of it was….well, tank shaped and knobbly!

Robin regarded it and flicked her gaze up to Strike, “Are you having a mid-life crisis and buying yourself man toys?” she asked.

“It’s for Jack….obviously….although it’s rather good once you get the hang of the controls,” he mumbled.

“OK, I assume you have lots of wrapping paper and some tape?” she asked and he gave her a withering look.  
“Of course I have….I’ve nicked the tape thing off your desk,” and he delved into the second bag to remove the familiar, plastic dispenser and a roll of Rudolph covered wrapping paper.

Robin hastily wiped down the table top to remove the inevitable stray bits of rice and drips of plum sauce and he positioned himself standing beside the small table.  
“Right, OK, let me give you instructions then,” she giggled, kneeling up sideways on the chair so that she faced him.

“Can’t you just do it for me?” he whined, looking quite ruffled, sexy and squidgy now that he’d had a couple more beers; and dragged his hand through his hair several hundred times; and removed his half-zip and rolled the sleeves up on the blue shirt he had under it…..Robin found herself wondering whether she could psychically make another button on his shirt pop open to give her a better view of his chest as he hunched over, resting his knuckles on the edge of the table.

“I could….but this is way more entertaining!” she grinned and he couldn’t stop himself growling slightly and casting her a green eyed glare, but it had amusement behind it.

“OK….what first? This….I assume I need a big load of it?” and he tugged the plastic wrapper from the roll of paper and pulled out a piece.  
“More than that,” Robin instructed, “You’ll need enough to go round it long ways….keep pulling.”

Once Strike had dragged what he considered a “Way too big!” piece of paper off the roll Robin told him to lay it on the table and position the tank on top with the flat cardboard side down, and facing lengthways.  
He did as she said and looked up for the next instruction, but met with her grimacing face and shaking head.  
“It’s the wrong way round!” she stated, wrinkling her nose.  
He looked down at the paper and toy, “It’s lengthways!”  
“No! It needs to be the other way round,” she gestured a twisting motion with her hands as she knelt up further on the chair to try to make her point.

Strike mumbled something unclear under his breath, turned the toy through 90 degrees and lifted his hands in the universal signal of ‘is that OK?’  
Clearly it wasn’t as Robin continued to moan and shake her head, her lips pouting out.  
“NOoooooo! The other way!”  
“Oh! For fuck’s sake!!” he rather petulantly exploded, turning the whole thing through 180 degrees so it was facing the other way. “Why does it make a difference?”

Robin huffed and stood up, stomping her socked feet across and placing the toy lengthways, but the opposite way round to how Strike had originally had it positioned, before returning to her chair, arms folded across her chest.  
Cormoran looked down at the toy incredulously.  
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted the hull and barrel in alignment facing forwards?” he quipped and curled his lip at Robin’s ridiculously crumpled face.  
“Because I have no idea what any bits of a tank are called, Army Man! Anyway, take that end of the paper and pull it back towards you, and then pull the other bit up and forwards, and give the end a fold over bit….it’ll make it easier to stick without tearing….trust me!” she smiled.

Strike took a deep breath, mainly because her smile was ridiculously seductive in the soft lamplight of his flat, but also because he wanted to get the present wrapped up correctly.

He did as he was instructed and Robin told him to stick the centre part with some tape, “Don’t pull a big bit off though, just….medium sized.”  
“You realise that’s a relative term don’t you? How big would you consider big?” and he pulled off what he considered an OK length piece of tape.  
“That’s too big!” she stated, “About two thirds of that.”  
He regarded the piece, crumpled it into a ball and tried again.

Robin tried to stop her mind turning feral…..Cormoran’s idea of ‘normal sized’ was so big…..oh, she was becoming rude and giggly.....thank God Ilsa wasn't there!

“Right, stop laughing and tell me what to do with these bits,” and he waggled the loose side sections of paper.  
Robin sniffed and tried to rid her mind of filthy thoughts about the size of Cormoran…..and not his Sellotape!

“OK, you need gentle hands now or you’ll rip the paper. So sort of guide the top bit down, then make like a paper aeroplane with the ends and flip the bottom bit up.  
He puffed out his cheeks and arched up his eyebrows as he tried to follow her detailed instructions. 

He managed the push down bit and got one end folded into a triangle but then looked up at her, shaking his head and completely bemused.  
“I’ve run out of hands!” he exclaimed, looking so innocently sexy and useless that Robin’s control snapped.  
She giggled and came over to him, replacing his hands with her own giving him free hands to fold the other end over and flip up the section.  
She moved her hand out of the way and looked up at him.  
“Now put some tape on and do the other side,” she said simply.

He still had both hands holding the flap of paper in place, “How do I get the tape? Come on Ellacott….get your practical, problem solving mind on it!”  
Close to him now she could see that his pupils were blown wide and dark, and his slightly off centred lips looked so soft.  
The tape dispenser was near the wall, across on the other side of the table to Robin.  
Something about the way he was arching his eyebrow at her and giving out wafts of his deeply masculine aroma made her suddenly a little impulsive.

Cormoran gasped and swallowed as she slid herself under his arms which remained rigidly clasping the Rudolph wrapping paper against the side of the toy tank.  
Robin’s body slotted into the small space between Cormoran and the table and deftly tore off a piece of tape from the machine.  
She moved Strike’s fingers out of the way and stuck down the flap and repeated her action on the other side.

“I’ll fold this bit, you do the tape,” she instructed with a slight tremble in her voice.  
He felt out for the tape dispenser and pulled off a piece of tape, he had no idea how long it was and had no idea where he was placing it, although her fingers slid over his and seemed to be guiding….or where they stroking and caressing? 

Fuck!

Strike very quickly became aware of their proximity and very quickly became aware that Robin’s arse was dangerously close to grazing against the rapidly stiffening front of his trousers.  
Her perfume was the only thing he could smell and he realised his eyes had fluttered closed as her fingers moved his hands infront of her in order to fasten the parcel.

Once he was no longer pressing the paper against the gift he was unsure what to do with his hands….and then Robin did that hair flip to one side of her neck thing, and her hips twitched back against him and suddenly he knew exactly where he wanted his hands.  
He grasped hold of Robin’s hips and turned her beneath him, and to his delight she went willingly, her fingers reaching up to find the soft curls at the nape of his neck and they seemed to pull each other into the kiss.

Their lips met in a soft and tender press which neither broke.  
Cormoran slid his hand into her hair and moved his mouth to slant across hers as they moved their lips in unison. 

It was Robin who parted her lips first with a small, breathy sob; but it was Cormoran who flicked his tongue against her lip and then slid it into the welcoming warmth of her mouth.

It quickly became a heated and frankly X-rated kiss as Strike’s hands slid across her back, pulling her hips towards him and pressing her body against his small kitchen table with his own weight.

Robin’s hands swarmed across his broad back, and shoulders, and his gloriously muscular buttocks, helping to pull him closer to her and allow her to grind against the incredibly promising firmness in his trousers which seemed very much in proportion to his sticky tape measurements!

Cormoran’s brain was on fire with the months of pent up control he had suddenly allowed to break free.  
His hands were finally able to glide up across the soft fabric of her sweater and tangle into her hair…..quite literally tangle.

“Ouch!” Robin hastily pulled back as Strike’s hand snagged within her hair.  
His fingers where somehow knotted up and the silken strands he had so long dreamed of trailing through were now dragging her head backwards as she swore repeatedly.

“Oh, fuck! Sorry….Robin….sorry, let me just….Ohhhh, shit!”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go!

Robin held her head up at an angle, gripping her lip between her teeth as Cormoran tugged to remove his large, hairy hand from the golden haven of her hair.

“Oh…..I see the problem now….erm, Robin I’m sorry but I seem to have got a piece of Sellotape stuck in your hair!”

Robin slumped back to perch against the table and failed to stifle the body shaking laughter emanating from her as Cormoran winced and shook his head at his own ineptitude.

“Let’s go over there and you can try and untangle me. Oh Lord, Cormoran…..you really are rubbish at wrapping stuff up!” she giggled, slipping across to the arm of the large armchair where the light was better.

He followed - the hindrance in his trousers no longer such of an issue! – and angled himself so that he could see the offending strip of tangled up sticky tape.  
As gently as he could he removed it, taking a few long, golden strands with it and held it up infront of her still giggling face.  
She took it from him, dropped it to the floor and made a semi serious investigation of his now empty hands to check for more before placing them purposefully back on her waist and neck.

“Let’s try that again shall we….I was rather enjoying it!” she purred, lifting her chin again and smiling against his pursing and eager lips, sliding effortlessly back into a deeply sensual kiss.

After several, passion fuelled minutes Cormoran drew himself back, pressing his hips back into hers, making his rekindled desire for her evident.

“You know, Ellacott….I am useless at wrapping stuff up……but I am absolutely exceptional at the unwrapping bit!” he punctuated his statement with purposeful nips along the exposed skin at Robin’s neckline.

“Show me,” she breathlessly whispered and squealed as Strike grunted; part caveman, part animal; and swept her up into his arms; stumbled slightly - the chivalric side of his nature had forgotten that he was a one-legged, slightly alcohol impaired old man! – but with Robin in his arms he felt a little bit invincible as he carried her the thankfully short distance to his bed!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know, this is a bit longer than I planned....but hey ho!  
Yuletide Felicitations to one and all!


End file.
